Forget Not This
by FallenStar2
Summary: Hope Summers thought she was an ordinary 16-year-old, being raised by her family... until one tiny photograph changed everything. Sequel to "When the Time Has Passed", featuring B&A.
1. Prologue

**Forget Not This**

**Title**: Forget Not This

**Rating**: PG, mostly for language and minor violence.

**Genre**: Probably drama. And angst. And sap. Add a little humor, and it's your typical story.

**Summary**: Hope Summers thought she was an ordinary 16-year-old, being raised by her family. Until one tiny photograph changed everything. Sequel to "When the Time Has Passed".

**Bigger Summary**: Hope Summers never knew her real mother, who died when she was two. She has never met her father, whom her family convinced her didn't exist. When she finds a photograph of her dead mother, questions start to arise, leading Hope into the world of demons and darkness she never knew existed, and the hope to reunite her with the father she has never met.

**Disclaimer**: Joss owns. I don't.

**Dedication**: Normally, I don't do this. But the entire plot of this fic was inspired by someone I've known since I was about three. To Andie, who followed her own journey to finally find her father. May she rest in peace.

**Author's Note**: I decided at last to do a really sappy and sort of a humbling sequel to 'When the Time Has Passed'. One of the reviewers of the original story thought of the second generational thing. This is an actually novella-sized story, too, if you can actually believe it.

**Timeline**: I already screwed with the timeline, but what the hell. Dawn exists and she comes into being about six months after Hope was born. One year later, Buffy makes the fatal jump which kills her. Dawn stops them from bringing her back and Buffy's living will wanted Hope to grow up away from Sunnydale. Angel left town again when Buffy died. Instead of waiting for a long court battle, Dawn takes Hope with her to Boston. Fourteen years later, Hope meets her godparents for the first time (being Willow and Xander) and she finds a photograph that leads to more... complicated questions. So, yes, completely messed with the timeline. So Buffy was about, oh, twenty one when she died. And Angel hasn't had any contact with his daughter at his ex's request. In Angel's timeline, I'm going to keep Doyle around, because he's the vision guy. And Cordy, Wesley... and probably a few of the others, too (you can tell how much I know about Angel, can't you?). He runs W&H, though. I want him to run the damned law firm so he can find his daughter. Spike is basically a non-issue. I'll send him to Angel's.

**Chapter Note**: More like a prologue note... but this is the last conversation between the former lovers and their daughter. Includes conversations from the episode 'The Gift'.

- - - - -

**Prologue**

- - - - -

Forget not yet, forget not this,

How long ago hath been, and is,

The mind that never means amiss;

Forget not yet.

Forget not yet thine own approved,

The which so long hath thee so loved,

Whose steadfast faith yet never moved,

Forget not this.

"Forget Not This" - Thomas Wyatt

- - - - -

May 2002, Sunnydale

It was nearing sunset. Buffy slowly paced the room and sat down next to her Watcher, who stared at her for a moment.

"I imagine you hate me right now," he said quietly.

She sighed and didn't look at him for a moment.

"I love Dawn."

"I know," Buffy said, a flicker of a smile moving across her face.

"But I've sworn to protect this sorry world, and sometimes that means saying and doing... what other people can't. What they shouldn't have to."

Buffy looked at him and gave him a wary smile. "You try and hurt her, and you know I'll stop you."

"I know," he replied, resting back against the bench and staring at the room he'd created for her. He saw the look in her eyes, a look of deep sadness.

"This is how many apocalypses for us now?" she asked in a vague attempt to lighten the mood.

"Oh, uh," he said, quickly taking off his glasses and cleaning them, "six, at least." He sighed heavily as he replaced the glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Feels like a hundred."

"I've always stopped them. Always won."

"Yes."

"I sacrificed Angel to save the world," Buffy said, folding her arms and smiling wistfully down at her knees. "I loved him so much. I still do. Nothing's changed there. But I knew what was right back then. I don't have that any more. I don't understand. I don't know how to live in this world if these are the choices. If everything just gets stripped away. I don't see the point. I just wish that... I wish that my Mom was here."

She rose and walked away, bringing one hand over her mouth. "The spirit guide told me... that death is my gift. Guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all."

"I think you're wrong about that," Giles protested gently.

"It doesn't matter. I've fought hard enough to keep my daughter out of the hands of the devil. They already took her from me once. I'm not going to let them take my sister, too. If Dawn dies, I'm done with it. I'm quitting."

She shook her head and quickly rushed from the room as Giles looked on, a look of deepening concern crossing his face.

She stopped at one look at the small toddler girl sitting at her spot on the research table at the Magic Box. Tara, bless her soul, was prodding at her, cooing, "Baby! Hi, baby!"

And Hope was making small gurgling noises.

Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. The air had suddenly become far too stifling for her liking. Glancing at her friends around the room, she turned and ran out of the Magic Box, trying to put as much distance between reality and her life as possible.

It didn't last very long. The one person she hadn't expected to return was suddenly standing there underneath a street lamp.

"You look sad," Angel said, falling into step beside her.

"It's been a hell of a week," Buffy said with a sad smile up at him. "How was yours?"

"More or less manageable," Angel said, shrugging. "How's Hope?"

"I'm just thanking whatever powers are out there that she doesn't have to deal with any of this right now," Buffy said in a tight voice. "She's not even two yet, Angel... and she has to grow up in this world?"

"Would you rather she not?" Angel asked her as they continued to walk along.

"Sometimes I wonder if it'd be better for her to be away from Slayers and keys and everything. Dawn's almost sixteen. I think she knows the drill by now."

"Did you finish the papers?"

"I turned them in last week," Buffy said with a sigh. "I can't believe I actually wrote my own living will." She sighed and looked down. "I guess that's the downfall of being a hero."

"What about Spike?" Angel asked casually.

"What about Spike?" Buffy asked him, smirking. "Look, he's devoted to Dawn. If he saves her life... I owe him more..."

"You don't love him?" Angel asked lightly.

"Eww, thanks for those nightmares," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "No... I think we both know that for the past two years of my life, my heart has belonged to someone else."

For a moment, they stared at each other.

"That's me, right, for the record?" he asked in his cryptic tone.

"You're such a dope," she smirked, turning away and continuing to walk.

"As long as I'm your... do I have to go along with the 'dope'?"

"It's Anya-speak... you'll get used to it," Buffy said, finally stopping and gazing up at the sky. "It's been so long since I've done this. Whenever I look at the sky, I feel so small and insignificant. There's so much up there... but the stars aren't trembling before hell-gods who want to kill their sister star and destroy the world. But I know that maybe, just maybe, my Mom is up there, somewhere."

He came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into him. She closed her eyes. "It's moments like these that make me glad I stopped looking at the sky," she said sadly. "I feel happy for what I have, even if there's something bad coming. But these aren't good choices."

"Death is your gift, after all," Angel said into her ear.

"If something happens to Dawn," she said, a shadow passing over her face, "you know I won't be the same, right?"

He touched her face and held her gaze as he kissed her gently. "Whatever happens, I'll love you. Even if you're all broody."

"Takes one to know one," she quipped, turning back in his arms. "How long are you going to be around?"

"How long do you need me?" he asked, tightening his grip.

"How about forever?" she asked, a smile lighting up her face. "How does forever sound to you?"

He dropped a kiss on top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair. "I think I can deal with forever."

They stood there another moment in silence before Buffy sighed. "I should get back... everyone's gonna be worried."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Angel asked, reaching for her hands.

She gave him a sweet smile. "I think Hope's been waiting to see her Daddy."

They returned fifteen minutes later, much to the surprise of the rest of the gang, and Spike, who stood up and narrowed his eyes when he noticed Angel's expression soften at the little brunette currently sucking on a bottle in Willow's lap.

"She's all yours, Mister," Willow said, handing Hope to Angel before turning back to her research.

"Wil, what do you got for me?" Buffy asked, crouching beside her best friend as Angel turned his back. It sort of made her smile when she heard weird noises emanating from him, mingled with the sound of their daughter's laughter.

Willow looked at her books uncertainly. "Some ideas. Well, notions. Or, theories based on wild speculation. Did I mention I'm not good under pressure?"

Buffy gently rested a hand on Willow's shoulder. "I need you, Wil. You're my big gun."

"I'm your - no, I-I was never a gun. Someone else should be the gun. I, I could be a, a cudgel. Or, or a pointy stick."

"You're the strongest person here. You know that, right?"

Willow glanced from Buffy, to Spike, who was still glowering, and the gaze slid to Angel, who was still making those ridiculous noises. "Uh... no," she frowned.

"Wil, you're the only person that's ever hurt Glory. At all. You're my best shot at getting her on the ropes, so don't get a jelly belly on me now."

"Well... I, I do sort of have this one idea. But, last few days, I've mostly been looking into ways to help Tara. I-I know that shouldn't be my priority..."

Buffy smiled at her best friend and put her hand on her knee. "Of course it should."

Willow smiled gratefully at her. There was just a small hint of sadness in her eyes. "Well, I've been charting their essences. Mapping out. I think... if I can get close enough, I may be able to reverse what Glory did. Like, take back what she took from Tara. It might weaken Glory, or... make her less coherent. Or it might make all our heads explode." Buffy glanced up as Giles called out to her. "I'll... try to work it," she concluded quickly.

Buffy passed by Angel, who was cradling the toddler. Forcing her mind back to the issue at hand, she turned and saw Giles standing with Xander and Anya, the dagon sphere in his hand.

Giles turned and talked to her in a low, anxious voice. Buffy straightened after a moment, her face must brighter. "No. No, no, that's good. That could be pivotal. Thank you guys." She smiled at her best friend and his girlfriend.

"Well, um, you're gonna need some --" Giles started.

"Way ahead of you. We have time?"

"If you hurry."

"Good," Buffy said, glancing at Spike, who just glowered at her, and turning to face Angel, who had come up behind her. "Let's go."

Angel and Spike weren't exactly on speaking terms the entire walk to the Summers' house. Spike was only too happy when Angel stopped in front of the bus depot, his eyes scanning the horizon.

"It's time," Angel said, gesturing to the toddler in his arms.

"Do you have what you need?" Buffy asked him.

"I've got it," he said, patting his coat pockets. "It won't be long."

"Get here away from here..." Buffy said, kissing his quickly and turning to Hope, who gazed at her mother sleepily. "Mommy loves you, baby... Mommy'll see you again." She kissed one of Hope's pale cheeks and looked up at Angel. "Mommy loves Daddy, too."

Spike just rolled his eyes and stalked onward, giving the couple their one last private moment before Angel disappeared.

"We could have used him, you know," Spike drawled as they entered the Summers' house.

"No, we couldn't," Buffy said sharply, pointing to the trunk in the living room. "The weapons are in the chest by the TV, I'll grab the stuff upstairs."

"Didn't want to risk your sweet lover's life, did you, pet?" Spike taunted her as he strolled into the living room.

"That's right," Buffy said, lifting her chin defiantly. "That, and he happens to be in possession of the one thing I value the most in this world."

"Besides Dawn?" Spike asked, quirking one eyebrow.

"Just get the weapons."

The tension was extremely thick in the Magic shop. As the group geared up and had Tara lead them into battle, they had no idea what would await them.

Besides a large tower constructed by people from an insane asylum.

After fighting off Glory and leaving her bloodied and broken as Ben, Buffy glanced up and saw her sister on top of the tower. There was someone up there with her.

She reached the top just in time to shove off the offending man who'd been cutting her precious sister. Dawn was sobbing as Buffy undid her ties.

"Here," she said, gently trying to pull Dawn away.

"Buffy, it hurts!" Dawn sobbed, clutching her bloody stomach.

"I got it," Buffy said, pulling Dawn towards the stairs. "Come on... you're going to be okay."

A small bit of light suddenly exploded from beneath their feet, growing wider and ever brighter. Dawn paused and then turned back to walk towards it.

Buffy grabbed her sister and nudged her towards the stairs. "Go!"

"Buffy," Dawn said, staring at the light shimmering below. "It's started."

Streaks of light shot out, burning buildings and releasing creatures. She gasped as a large dragon circled around them.

"I'm sorry," Dawn said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"It doesn't matter," Buffy said, wiping the tear away.

Dawn made to walk back towards the platform, but Buffy held her back. "What are you doing?"

"I have to jump! The energy!"

"It'll kill you," Buffy said, feeling as though the situation were starting to get desperately out of control.

"I know. Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it."

"No," Buffy whispered, as tears welled in her own eyes. Dawn was showing an enormous amount of maturity in this moment... it was beyond touching.

"I have to. Look at what's happening. Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop. You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood."

Buffy stared hard into her sister's face for a moment, her mind flashing back onto previous conversations.

"Cause it's always got to be blood." That was Spike.

"It's Summers blood. It's just like mine." It was Buffy's own voice, from sometime in the past.

"Death... is your gift." It was the voice of the First Slayer.

Buffy felt as though everything were falling into place. She turned back to Dawn, whose eyes suddenly widened as she cried out, "No!"

"Dawnie, I have to," Buffy said softly.

"Buffy, no!"

"Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen...

"Dawnie, I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong."

Buffy reached up and touched her sister's face. "Dawn, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live... for me."

Buffy leaned over and kissed her sister's cheek. Dawn continued to cry as Buffy slowly turned and ran to the end of the platform, before diving into it. In that moment, Dawn started screaming. She knew that Buffy's friends down below were watching.

Slowly, reluctantly, she started walking down the creaking metallic steps, feeling as though everything were falling apart.

When she got to the bottom, on top of the rubble was her sister's body.

Just before she collapsed, she screamed once in agony, in defeat... for Glory had taken everything from her, including her sister. She was never going to let it happen again to anyone. Including her sister's daughter.

One Month Later

It was after midnight when Angel arrived in Sunnydale, his daughter in his arms. He knew where he was going. He found the place right away.

Willow, Xander and Dawn were all there, looking tired and drawn. Hope's head was resting on Angel's shoulder and she was sucking her thumb.

Willow had been the one to go down to Los Angeles the following morning and tell Angel what had happened. To her surprise, he had expected something like this. Buffy had always been one to believe in prophecies. She had died because of the first one. And she gave her life for her sister's.

Dawn was sixteen now. She looked older and more worn down since he'd last seen her. And that had been nearly three months ago.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angel asked her.

"I'm sure," Dawn said with a tight smile. "Buffy had everything figured out in case something happened to her... and that meant that in the case she... you know... Hope would be raised as far away from this world as possible." She looked up at Angel with her large blue eyes. "Please don't hate her for this decision."

"I don't," Angel said softly. "I just wish I had a part in it. I feel like I'll never see my daughter again."

He looked away for a moment before turning back to them. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to a private boarding school in Boston," Dawn said quietly. "And Hopie's coming with me. Until we can figure things out, I mean. Someday we should figure out how this is going to work."

"Just let me know when you come to a decision, okay, Dawn?" Angel asked her. He turned away for a moment before looking back. "I'm sorry about your losses."

Tears filled Willow's eyes. "She meant the world to you."

"She did," Angel said, and he turned and walked away, out of their lives.

Hope was starting to fuss now. Dawn handed her over to Xander so she could search for a snack in the bag lying at her feet.

"Maybe we should have waited," Willow said quietly.

"That's probably what Buffy would have chosen had she not been so hard pressed for time," Xander replied, bouncing the screaming baby on his hip.

"I'll take her," Dawn said, finally lifting some graham crackers from her bag. "We should probably get back. It's not the safest place to be at midnight."

The three of them walked back towards town.

"So, in two months you're headin' to Boston, Dawn?" Xander asked.

"We just got the call tonight," Willow replied. "I spoke with the Headmaster myself as Dawn's agent. Giles accepted a position there as Head Librarian. He'll be taking over Dawn's guardianship until we can contact Hank and see what he wants to do. When Dawn is eighteen, she'll probably take over as Hope's legal guardian."

"As long as they don't think she's mine," Dawn said, laughing at the thought. Well, she had to admit that Hope did sort of look like her. She had short brown hair like her father, but where the green eyes had come from, Dawn didn't know.

"So, you gonna be ready to get out of this town, Dawnie?" Willow asked quietly.

"Yeah," Dawn said, smiling at the horizon. "I think I am ready."

- - - - -

Fourteen Years Later, November

The alarm clock rang at its usual time of seven. Hope groaned and rolled over in her warm, comfortable bed. Her pale hand shot out from the sheets and smacked the button. Letting out a loud yawn, the figure grumbled, seized a pillow, and jammed it over her head, moaning.

"Hope! Hope, come on, and get up! You can't be late for History again!"

Hope groaned as she felt her roommate poking and prodding at her. "Go away," she murmured into her mattress.

"We could always let Davey in here..." a teasing voice said from outside her comforting cocoon.

"You will not," Hope snapped, pushing her mountain of stuffed animals and pillows aside and rising from the heap, growling. Her roommate and her best friend were standing in the doorway, laughing.

"You should see yourself, Hope," her best friend laughed.

Hope reached up and felt her head before letting out a soft, "Meh."

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," said her roommate.

Half an hour later, Hope was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing out her long hair. It was her best feature in her own words, although her best friend, a girl by the name of Alex, told her otherwise. Long, thick and dark brown, it reached halfway down her back and settled into cool waves by afternoon.

Hope Summers was a junior at the same posh boarding school her mother had attended years earlier. Her Mother told her it was probably the best experience of her life. From what Hope had heard, her mother had been the perfect, model student. Hope resigned herself to being anything but.

She classified herself as a rebel. She and Alex both were, as said by their matching tattoos they'd gotten on their sixteenth birthday. And while Alex was more adventurous with herself than Hope was, mainly because her mother lived just across the small campus, she still tried to get away with things.

Smoothing her skirt, she walked out of the bathroom, catching up with Alex and her roommate Mina as they walked down to breakfast.

"So, Hope, where are you going next week?"

"Mom says she wants to go home for Thanksgiving."

It was known by a lot of people that Hope's mom was a teacher at the school. Well, not so much as a teacher as a librarian, and that made Hope's Mom cool in everyone's eyes.

"Where's home?" Mina asked as they started walking downstairs.

"Well, Mom says that Grandpa's coming back from England, and we're all going back to Mom's home in California."

"Really? California? Do you know how many girls would give their Gucci away just to go there? All those shoes!"

Hope grinned and winked at them. "I know."

"When do you leave?"

"We leave Tuesday night. I'm missing classes on Wednesday. Oh, well... it's not like I need to learn math or English or French or anything anyway, right?"

"You are so lucky to have a Mother to talk to," Mina said enviously. "My parents just packed me up in Taiwan and said, okay, see you in nine months!"

"Oh, come on! You talk to my Mom all the time," Hope said as they walked into the cafeteria, full even at this early hour by loud, boisterous students. "Remember last week about you and Davey?"

"Or two days ago about you and that failed French test?" Alex piped in.

"Thank you," Hope said, beaming at Alex. "See what I mean? I think everyone deserves to have a Mother like mine. She's so cool... she doesn't try to be overbearing at all. She's just... you know... she's Dawn. She can do no wrong. She's totally my hero."

The three girls picked up their food and moved to sit at a table occupied by their other friends, who leaned over and started to chat with Hope immediately.

"Hey, Hope... we saw your Mom last night," one of the boys snickered.

"So?" Hope asked, blowing on her oatmeal to cool it down. "I see her everyday. She works here, you dumbass."

"She was with a certain science teacher," the boy continued teasing.

"What?" Hope shrieked. It was known by now, at least by Hope, that her Mother hadn't dated anyone after Hope's father had upped and left her. No one permanent, anyway. Dawn had only been working at the school for two years now, ever since Hope started.

"Oh, come on, Hope! Open your eyes! She and Professor Laven are perfect for each other."

Hope glared at Mina for a moment before glancing down the table. "You know, I'm sure it's nothing... my mom flirts a little. She never dates... but that's why she's my hero. After all, my Dad turned out to be the jackass of the century... I can't say I blame her."

Across campus, in the faculty quarters, Dawn Summers was slowly looping a belt through her long khaki skirt. She smoothed the long skirt and carefully pulled on a blazer over her blouse and skirt.

It was the same practiced movement she had been doing for the past two years. The past fourteen, really.

It had all been a game at the beginning. Until a four-year-old Hope called Dawn, at her own high school graduation, Mother. It had started there.

Little did Dawn realize it was almost comforting. It made keeping the truth about Hope so much easier. The fact that the woman she called Mother was really her Aunt. And her Mother had been dead for fourteen years.

And the Father she never knew was still alive, not dead or up and gone like Dawn had told her.

Fourteen years later, and she still hadn't figured it out.

That was why she had decided to go back to California for Thanksgiving. It had been Buffy's favorite holiday. Dawn hadn't spoken of her sister at all since arriving on the east coast. It made things far too easy for her. She was a teenage mother, the victim of a senseless rape, or something far too stupid to even think about, and yet...

Hope's parents were heroes. They saved the world. All Dawn did was exist because a bunch of monks shaped energy into human form.

Hope was looking more and more like her father each day. She had his dark hair and Angel must have had someone on his side of the family with green eyes, because those jade eyes had broken a lot of hearts. But she had her mother's quirky sense of humor and was a complete smartass, much like Buffy had been.

Dawn smiled as she neatly brushed her shoulder-length hair. In just a few days time, Hope was going to return to California and meet her godparents. Willow and Xander had both been contacting Dawn for the past decade, trying to get her to come back. Dawn had found a new life in Boston, though. After high school, she'd gone onto college to get a degree in teaching. After receiving her Master's credentials, Dawn had decided to fall into a Giles-like job.

It had been he who had gotten her that job in the first place.

And she could never have been more grateful.

She just wished Giles could explain to Hope that her entire life had been a lie. She wasn't some spoiled, rich, pampered kid. She was the product of one of the most tragic romances in the history of romance.

The time had finally come to set Dawn free of the guilt. Of the remorse. And she could finally let her sister go, fourteen years after her death.

It was time.

- - - - -


	2. The Photograph

**Chapter 1**

**The Photograph**

- - - - -

Take a journey to find your dream

It's not as far as it may seem

Every day is another step

So don't get down if you're not there yet

- Brave New Girl

- - - - -

"Hey, Mom."

Dawn Summers nearly spilled the soup she'd been eating into her lap at the sound of Hope's voice in her ear. The teenager must have crept up behind her quite silently to do that. Dropping her spoon back into her bowl, Dawn turned and gave her a fierce glare. Her hard expression melted at the sight of Hope and her mirthless giggles.

"Oh, dear," Dawn finally said, shaking her head. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such a visit?"

"I can't believe I'm going to California!" Hope squealed as she and Alex ran around the side of the table and sat down across from Dawn, who was wiping up the dribbles of soup which had spilled out when she'd dropped the spoon.

"All those shoes," Alex said with a slight swoon.

"Oh, and those designers," Hope said in a faint voice, lifting a hand and pressing it dramatically to her forehead. "Be still my Summers heart."

"I can already tell you that you're going to be disappointed," Dawn said, resuming eating her late dinner. It was Sunday night, the week of Thanksgiving. In two days, Dawn and Hope would be boarding a plane at LaGuardia and returning back to Sunnydale, Dawn's first visit in over a decade.

"What?" Hope asked, her eyes widening.

"Sunnydale is rather known for its lack of malls," Dawn said with a wry smile.

"No... malls?" Alex asked, her jaw dropping.

Hope let out a tiny wail and buried her head in her arms. "I'm being stuck in the country in the best state in the world and I'm going to the one city in that state without a mall?"

"It has a mall," Dawn said, protesting. "At least it did when I was growing up there."

Hope recovered rather quickly from her tantrum. "You grew up in California and didn't even bother mentioning it to me?"

"I have my reasons," Dawn said with a sad smile.

"How far is Sunny-hell from L.A.?" Alex asked her.

Dawn nearly dropped her spoon again. "Far enough that we won't be going."

"Oh, come on!" Hope said, her face brightening. "Rodeo Drive, Mom? Hollywood? You cannot deny me that!"

"From someone who has spent the last few years being pampered in countries around the world, my dear girl, you are hardly lacking in culture."

"That's just because Grandpa took me to Italy over the summer," Hope said with a smug smile.

"It's a hell of a lot better than me spending time with my grandparents at their corn fields in Iowa," Alex pointed out.

"True," Hope said with a slight grin.

"Did you girls finish your homework?" Dawn asked sharply as she finished her dinner.

"Um, almost!" Hope said with her bright smile. But Dawn wasn't fooled. She had done this to her mother and to Buffy on so many occasions that she knew every trick in the book.

"It's a really boring project for our social issues class," Alex explained, rolling her eyes.

"Say no more," Dawn said with a patient smile. "The whole family study, eh?"

"My family's pretty boring," Alex said with a grin. "There's me and Robbie. And then there are my parents. And Uncle Ri and Aunt Sam. My grandparents and Aunt Jules. No one really impressive. I was thinking of using one of my Uncles for my project, him being all military and all."

"That sounds like a plan," Dawn told her before switching her gaze back to Hope. "How about you, dumpling?"

"Mo-om, don't call me that!" Hope said, wrinkling her nose in a very Buffy-like manner. "You know we don't have a whole lot of family other than you and Grandpa."

Dawn kept her face perfectly neutral. How wrong this poor little girl was.

"I was sort of hoping I could do it on my Mother."

"That's... that's flattering, Hope, but..."

"But, what, Mom? You're totally my hero! Who helps me in the eleventh hour time crunch when I need help studying for a Calculus test? You. Who helps me out when I have to research the fall of Berlin at two in the morning? Let me think... you. You're so my hero."

"As I've said before," Dawn started again, "I'm flattered, but--"

"Oh, stop being all noble, Miss Summers," Alex snapped. "She already handed in the project proposal and it was already accepted. So there's not a lot you can do to change it."

"Right," Dawn said, pushing her tray aside. "I'm sorry, Hope."

Hope gave her a charming smile. "It's okay, Mum. I know that the stress of this job is all going to your head." She stood up and walked around the table, kissing the top of Dawn's head. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Good night, girls," Dawn said, waving after them.

After they'd left, Dawn turned her attention to her laptop lying next to the tray. She clicked on the touchpad and her virtual connection reappeared.

"I don't know what to do, Giles," she said, turning to a distinguished British man in his mid-seventies, sitting in an armchair in Sunnydale, where he had returned just the day before.

"She's spent the last sixteen years in her little bubble," Giles replied. "I suggest we let her proceed with the project."

"I don't like lying to her like that," Dawn said with a sad smile. "It isn't what Buffy would have wanted."

"It's a crying shame Angel turned out the way he did," Giles said bitterly. Dawn gave him a dark smile. Had it only been a decade before that Angel had lost his soul to fight an apocalypse? His swing to the dark side made it almost essential for Dawn to protect her niece, even if it meant calling Hope her own.

"Buffy wouldn't have wanted that either," Dawn said, sniffling. "I just think we should tell her. For one thing, you're not her Grandfather. And I'm really not ready to be a Mother yet."

"I hear your relationship with Doctor Laven is progressing more rapidly than you expected," Giles told her gently.

"I'd hardly call the best two years of my life progress," Dawn said with a bittersweet smile. "I mean, he's nice. But... I just feel so separated because he doesn't know who I really am, you know? He just thinks I'm some dopey single mother with a weird daughter."

"She keeps reminding me more and more of her Mother each day," Giles said brightly.

"She does, doesn't she?" Dawn said wistfully. "I don't think anyone could throw a temper tantrum like she could."

"Considering how many of Hope's I have had to endure..." Giles said with a smile.

Dawn grinned at him. "I don't why you've stuck with me all these years."

"I suppose I've had to, since that little girl considers me her Grandfather," Giles replied.

"She's not a little girl anymore," Dawn said with a wicked grin. "She's always in far too much trouble to be considered a little girl."

"Speaking of little girls, I spoke with Xander yesterday," Giles said, smiling. "He and Anya bought the house."

"They didn't!" Dawn squealed.

"It looks like we'll soon have Harris's running around in Boston, too," Giles said with his quiet sarcasm.

"Oh, they must be getting so old!" Dawn said happily.

"All four of them?" Giles asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No wonder Xander wants to move out there... he wants a free baby-sitter."

"I cannot believe that Nicolai is almost thirteen!" Dawn said, giving her hands a little clap.

"The world is most definitely doomed," Giles said, rolling his eyes.

Dawn just laughed.

- - - - -

"What'cha doin'?"

"My grandparents sent me these old yearbooks from Dad and Uncle Ri's high schools and colleges," Alex replied, holding up a thick stack of books. "And you'll never believe this..." With a wicked grin, she pulled out a University of California-Sunnydale yearbook. "Ta-da!"

"What?" Hope gasped as she sat down next to her best friend, trying to ignore the hushing noises around them. She didn't really want to attract her Mother's attention now. "Where did this come from? I thought colleges didn't have yearbooks."

"Uncle Ri spent a year there in his graduate studies," Alex said cheerfully. "Grandma said that there were pictures in here before he was sent overseas. And Uncle Ri told me the only reason why UC-Sunnydale had a yearbook was something about the mortality rate and the pictures being used for police scans. He could have been joking, too... but that's just Uncle Ri."

"Really?" Hope asked, lovingly going through the bright pages. "Oh, look at all these happy people! Isn't this campus beautiful? Look at all the palm trees, Alex!" She let out a tiny whimper as she caressed the pages.

Alex glanced at the book, and suddenly paused, flipping back several pages.

"What?" Hope asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I just saw..." Alex replied, finally stopping with a triumphant grin. "There he is!"

"That's your uncle?" Hope asked, peering at the image of a very tall and quite hot young man talking to a younger-looking blonde. "He's totally cute!" Her eyes moved to the image of the blonde. "Is that your aunt?"

"Uh, no... you've met her, remember?" Alex asked, rolling her eyes. "She's tall, dark-haired and goes by the name of Sam."

"Oh, right," Hope said, brushing her hand over the picture. "Well, I'd say your aunt got herself quite a catch."

Just before she turned the page, her eye caught onto the caption.

"Did your uncle ever have any other girlfriends?" she asked Alex curiously.

"He'd never tell me if he did," Alex replied sarcastically. "Why?"

"This girl," Hope said, tapping the photograph. "Look at her. He's totally into her."

"She's like our age, Hope, maybe a year or two older. A freshman. The lowest of the low. The bottom of the chain... do you get where I'm going with this?"

"Point well taken, but still... there's just something about her."

"What does the caption say?"

"Oh, it says 'Graduate student Riley Finn assists two young freshmen with their psychology course'."

"That sounds like Uncle Ri. He was a teaching assistant there for about a year until his transfer."

"Sounds like you picked a winner, Alex."

"Wanna cut out the picture?"

"You're going to cut your uncle's yearbook?" Hope asked her incredulously. "Mom would kill me if I even touched hers."

"Did she even give you anything to touch?" Alex asked, handing Hope a pair of scissors.

"Not yet," Hope said with a dramatic sigh. "I'm hoping Grandpa will give me something. Or, now that we're going back to California, I can go to Mom's old, old school and see if I can find anything for myself!"

Alex laughed at the determined look on Hope's face. That was her best friend, she thought to herself with a smirk. Once Hope set her mind on something, there was little to deter her.

Hope busied herself by cutting out images from the college yearbook. Most of them were little scenery pictures she'd keep for herself, since she was trying to talk her Mother into letting her go to college on the West Coast, instead of staying and going to Boston College, her Mother's alma mater. Someplace like Stanford, or UCLA. Maybe even Arizona. But UC-Sunnydale looked pretty swell, too. San Francisco wouldn't be so bad. But it was the thought of being around lots of exquisite malls packed with beautiful shoes that won UCLA over in Hope's heart.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked a half hour later, laughing as Hope was lovingly flipping through pictures of happy students posing in front of landscapes.

"I'm trying to talk Mom into letting me go to UCLA," Hope said dryly. "Remember? I've only told you like a thousand times, Alex."

"Your Mom still wants you to go to Boston College, huh?" Alex asked sympathetically. "Well, my Dad is dead-set on me going to Iowa State, which is death to all of us who don't want to be corn farmers... so I was trying to talk him into Colorado. But California might not be so bad. OH!" She gasped, lunging for her backpack and pulling out her cellular telephone.

Pressing some buttons, she stopped with a grin and handed the phone to Hope. "Dad sent me some pictures of the blizzard."

Hope's eyes widened when she noticed all of the tractors and horse trailers buried under three feet of fluffy white powder. "Crap," she muttered under her breath. "How the hell did you survive for fourteen years in Iowa?"

"I must have something wrong with my head," Alex said with a chuckle as she pushed her phone back inside her bag. "Did I tell you that Dad invited you to spend Christmas with us?"

Hope had spent her very first Christmas at this school with the Finn family. Well, since Alex's Aunt Julie lived on the Cape, the entire Finn family flew out for a wonderful Christmas endeavor. Dawn had been fine with it, considering that someone from her past had come to visit for Christmas. Hope had spent a week with her roommate and best friend on the Cape.

Hope summers and Alexandra Finn had been kindred ever since they'd met up at freshman orientation. Hope's mother had wanted her to go to the same private high school she'd gone to. And Alex's aunt had petitioned at the only female in the family get away from the corn husks and cow tracks and get a real-time education, actually volunteering to sponsor Alex's four-year education at the toney Silver Crest Academy. They'd been roommates, always talking about boys and clothes, their favorite topic definitely the runway shows. They both lived for Gucci, even if retro, because it completely highlighted their style.

Dawn had encouraged the friendship, since she had had many problems making friends. She had been an exchange student. Giles had taken care of Hope while Dawn was in school, so having the baby around hadn't been the problem. The problem was that Dawn had seen and done far too much before coming to Boston to actually fit in with the crowd. She had strived to be a teacher and finally a Librarian, knowing that setting down in a role best suited for Giles would be the best thing she could do with her life. Besides, Giles had always been there for Buffy, Willow, Xander and the rest of their gang. Dawn was there equally as much for Hope, Alex, and theirs.

Now at sixteen and in their third year at the SCA, the two girls were notorious trouble makers. It amused Dawn for the most part, because Buffy had gotten away with some serious shit. Even at this expensive private academy, Hope still got away with a lot. It probably didn't help that Dawn was seeing the Vice Principal, Doctor Laven.

Hope's second Christmas had been spent in London with Dawn and Giles. It had been a wonderful two weeks, except the fact that Hope returned with a wardrobe three times the capacity of the tiny closet allowed in her dormitory.

For her third Christmas, Hope really wanted to spend it with Alex. She didn't have much family, and she was spending Thanksgiving with them, anyway. Her Mother and Grandfather could wait. She had always wanted to go cross-country skiing and sledding on the Iowa cornfields. It just seemed... exciting, somehow.

She had yet to ask her Mother, though. That was probably the downfall of the entire vacation she had dreamt up for herself. Besides, she would finally get to meet Alex's Uncle Riley and Aunt Sam, two people that Alex swore she wanted to be like. Despite Alex's touchy record and her mediocre grades, she had joined the junior-ROTC program. She wanted to be like her Uncle, a hero.

Hope's goal in life was to not be a librarian or a teacher. Her mother and grandfather had been both, and it was annoying. Her dream job was to be either an actress or a model, but she knew she didn't have a chance at either, having no talent or really any body to fathom modeling with. She would have to settle with being a fashion-savvy writer or something. She was remarkably strong, but being an athlete wasn't really Hope's ambition. She was a bi-athlete, both in cheerleading and dance, but it really didn't matter to her. For some odd reason, Hope was convinced it was a family calling.

She was, however, excellent at arguing. She was pretty good at research, too. From what her career aptitude tests had said, she would make a damned good lawyer. That wouldn't be so bad, Hope mused. She wondered if she could get away with going to law school in a tankini, since she was dead-set on getting away from her home-life in Boston and breaking into the freedom that was UCLA. Or anywhere in California, really.

The bell above them rang, signaling the end of their study period. Jumping up, Hope gathered the mess of pictures she'd cut up and stuffed them unceremoniously into her binder. Alex rose and carefully stacked the books, but left them where they were. One of the perks of having a friend's mom as a librarian was the privilege of being a complete slob.

The two girls rushed out, Alex on her way to German and Hope on her way to Chemistry.

"See you at lunch?" Alex shouted out. Hope waved to her as she was swallowed up by her dance line teammates.

Dawn moved out from her corner where she'd been archiving a new stack of periodicals and found the pile of yearbooks. She smiled when she came across the UC-Sunnydale one. She sat down and began going through it, page by page.

Buffy had loved it there. She had said it was a home away from the one she had.

She paused when she noticed a picture. She stared at it a moment before smiling. Willow. It was the picture next to the one that had been cut out. And, in the corner of the image, was a flash of blonde hair. Buffy.

Dawn read the caption and let out a small gasp. Riley Finn. How could she have forgotten?

It hadn't been a coincidence, Dawn mused. It was sort of ironic that Riley's niece and Buffy's daughter had found each other at one school and out of the blue had become best friends.

Buffy had liked Riley. Nothing had ever come of it, because suddenly Buffy's pregnancy had caused her to eventually drop out of school, but Dawn had heard enough. Riley had been a crush for awhile, until Angel came back into the picture.

Riley had come to Buffy's apartment once, Dawn remembered. Anya, who had been homeless until Buffy had taken pity on her, had opened the door. After one of Anya's famous talks, Riley had backed out, completely red-faced and at a loss for words. He was never seen again.

Dawn had met him a grand total of three times. She wondered if he'd even remember her. He had to be at least forty. According to Alex, he never had children, because his life was wrapped up in the military, where he was supposedly a Colonel now.

And there he was, in his twenty-three-year-old glory, talking to Willow and Buffy, both eighteen. Dawn could see the similarities now, between Hope and Buffy. They both had the same determined eyes and the same set jaw line. Although Hope had dark hair, if she ever dyed it blonde (and Dawn would seriously ground her if she even attempted something that extreme), they would be dead ringers. Almost. Hope had to be a few inches taller than Buffy. She was also proportionally curvier. Apparently she had some of her father's curves. She definitely had his hair. And his nose and quite possibly the forehead. The thought made Dawn smirk. Spike would love it.

Spike. She was going to see him again after thirteen years of silence. He'd come to Boston twice, only to have Giles slam the door shut in his face. Twice.

She felt almost guilty at throwing these people out of her life, but who were they to show up and confuse Hope? Buffy had wanted to keep Hope away from the strange world she'd been brought into. The Oracles must have kept her life for a reason and Dawn wasn't about to throw that reasoning away for Spike or anyone.

She was just about to close the book when the cut-up photograph fell onto the table. It was the first picture she'd actually seen of her sister in over a decade.

Eighteen-year-old Buffy was still gorgeous. Just as she'd been at twenty one when she died. Dawn lovingly touched the photograph and slipped it into her pocket. Closing the yearbook, she stacked them up and continued on to do her work.

- - - - -

Tuesday night was loud and crowded at the airport. Dawn slipped her computer bag over her shoulder and held out her ticket to the agent. Turning, she saw Alex and Hope clinging to each other as though Hope was just about to volunteer for a suicide mission in some war.

"I'll see you Sunday," Alex whimpered as she pulled back. "Be careful. Both of you."

"We will," Hope said with her small grin as she broke away. "Have fun in Iowa!"

"I will!"

Dawn grabbed Hope's arm and dragged her to the security line. "Do you realize you've been holding us up all afternoon saying goodbye?"

"What?" Hope snapped as she, too, pulled out her ticket. "Alex is like my best friend. You do know what it's like to have those, don't you?"

Dawn didn't respond. She just calmly walked through the checkpoint before pulling her computer bag over her shoulder. "Let's get going. We can stop for a bite before we reach our gate if we hurry."

This cheered up Hope some.

Tuesday had been a rather windy and rainy day in Boston. It wasn't ideal traveling weather, and Dawn was beginning to take it as an omen. Hope was just as nonchalant and oblivious as usual, something Dawn was really starting to take for granted. She was getting used to this, and it scared her.

They managed to make a quick stop at one of the few marketplace stands and get a sandwich before pulling a total "Home Alone" in rushing to their gate on time. Once they were aboard the plane, crammed near the end with Hope complaining loudly all the way, Dawn began to feel even more tense. The coffee wasn't helping.

Hope wasn't doing so well either, apparently. She started gasping and wheezing, saying she was just moments away from a panic attack. Two flight attendants took pity on the both of them and moved them from coach to first class. Dawn glared at Hope as the two took their new seats in the front of the plane.

"What?" Hope choked as she managed a tiny sip of orange juice.

"Are you feeling better now?" Dawn asked sharply as she stowed her laptop bag and tucked the latest issue of Cosmo in the compartment in front of her.

Hope gave a dramatic sigh and placed a hand over her heart. "Yes, Mommy dearest."

Dawn was going to have to work on that. She could just imagine the looks on everyone's faces when they heard Buffy's daughter calling Dawn mommy. It normally didn't bother Dawn, but if she did this in front of Angel, they'd be in trouble.

The plane took off without any more of Hope's histrionics and soon Dawn was relaxing in her comfortable seat, the noisy, crowded section behind them closed off. Hope leaned over and plucked out the Cosmo and was reading it with great interest. Dawn watched her daughter snort and comment smarmily as she read, and finally dozed.

She was shook awake by Hope, who had an agitated look on her face. "Geez, Mom! I thought you were never going to wake up!"

Dawn reached for the jacket someone had thrown across her upper body and pulled it away, yawning. "Where are we?"

"We just landed in Sunnydale, Mom," Hope said quietly. Dawn could see the tension on the younger girl's face. But there was something else in her searching look. Dawn's eyes grew startled as she noticed that Hope held something in her hand.

"What is it?" Dawn asked, trying to play the part of the oblivious mother. But Hope's eyes narrowed and Dawn knew something was up.

"Where did you find this?" Hope asked casually, showing Dawn the picture. "I cut it out of Alex's yearbook collection yesterday."

"I know," Dawn said, with her patented smile of understanding. It seemed to tick off Hope the most, and sure enough, the brunette in front of her started ranting.

"Do you know anything about it? Do you know who she is? Where did you get this? Were you snooping through our stuff? Alex is going to kill me if I lose this!"

"Relax, Hope," Dawn said, clearing her throat as she pulled on her coat. "And to answer your questions, I know about the photograph and I know who she is. I got it from your stash and the only reason I took it was to show your... grandfather. He might want to see this, too."

"So you know who the girl is?" Hope asked her.

"The redheaded one, yeah," Dawn replied, pointing her out. "You've talked to her on the phone a few times. It's Willow."

"That's Willow?" Hope gasped, seizing back the photograph and staring at the tiny part of Willow she could see. "Wow."

"Tell me about it," Dawn said softly. The seatbelt light had finally turned off and there was a mad rush to get off of the plane. Hope was waiting for Dawn in the entry.

"Are you coming?" Hope asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Dawn said, trying to force her weak legs forward.

And here she was again. In Sunnydale. It was so strange to be back in a city so familiar and yet so very different.

"Grandpa?!" Hope squealed as she brushed past Dawn and launched herself into Giles, nearly knocking both of them over.

"Why, Hope... it's quite good to see you... and you, too, Dawnie."

Dawn came up behind Hope with a patient look of incredulity on her face. She looked as though she were trying not to laugh.

But there was a voice from behind them that echoed with a slight amount of sarcasm. "Grandpa?"

Dawn froze as a pale hand dropped onto her shoulder. Hope turned, her eyes sparkling with laughter and mirth and then widening in horror as she took in the person standing behind Dawn.

"Spike," Dawn whispered, a few emotions crossing her face as she quickly threw his hand aside and stepped away from him.

But he wasn't staring at her. He was looking at Hope, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Hey, isn't that--"

"My daughter's all grown up now, isn't she, Spike?" Dawn asked sharply, her eyes begging him to play along.

Spike looked confused for a moment and shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Should have figured that one out myself."

Dawn knew she was going to have to explain everything. Giles just stood there, pinching the bridge of his nose, while Hope stared curiously at this Spike.

"Who are you?" Hope asked with a slight smirk. It was her signature flirting gesture, but Dawn wasn't about to let Buffy's daughter flirt with one of her mortal enemies, no way, no how.

"A friend of a friend," Spike said softly. "You really have grown up, haven't you, bit?"

"Are you in love with my mother?" Hope asked suddenly.

Both Dawn and Spike turned to her, looking put out. Spike was going to forget he was playing along if she kept firing these extremely uncomfortable questions at him.

"Let's go down to baggage, okay?" Dawn asked, taking Hope's arm and practically dragging her away from Spike.

"He's cute!" Hope squealed as they hurried away.

"He's too old for you," Dawn protested.

Spike was still standing in the same spot, looking extremely lost. "Did I miss something?"

Giles released his nose and sighed heavily. "Just try and play along, Spike. This is what Buffy wanted; Hope to grow up without knowing about vampires and demons and Slayers."

"Oh, so you're supposedly her long-lost Grandfather and the bit gets to play the Mother?" Spike asked slowly.

"You catch on fast."

"Maybe I should play the bit's brother, too, Grandpa."

"Considering you're old enough to be mine, be my guest."

"Bugger... spoil my fun."

"That's my goal in life."

"Bloody right it is."

It was going to be a long trip.

- - - - -

Well, well. I'm glad that you're enjoying this. It's been a fun story to write, and it's nearly completed (praise someone). It has required a lot of patience and a lot of planning, but in the end, it works rather nicely. Thank you for taking the time to review!

I've made this a habit, I bloody well know that. But, I like responding to the reviewer's comments…

**Juzblue**:Thank you. Truly. Thank you also for your review for my Anya-centric story.

**Buff: **Thanks :) It's shorter than the stuff I normally write, but… it works. I think. Sometimes.

**A2zmom: **Thank you muchly. I hope it stays interesting. It's taken a lot of work to get as far as it has!

**Illuminatimage:**Thank you! Well, the original was written in late 2003 actually (about the same time Epitaph was written), so I hope my writing has progressed since. Then again, I normally look at my earlier stories and cringe.

**OWL:** It really wasn't my intention. I love using characters that already exist. It's just that… I have to redeem Dawn in my own eyes, and I think this just about does it.

So… what do you think? Thanksgiving is about to get a hell of a lot more interesting, especially since Angel is about to send his own "spy" from Los Angeles to visit Dawn… in the form of his son, Connor.

Also, I'll probably include a bit of the continuation to "Epiphany", which I have finally decided to begin writing after it got nominated. How about that? I abandoned it last year and now… wow. What I was thinking was just incorporating a lot of what I had planned for "Guardians" into it. Therefore it will become "Guardians", eventually. But I loved the prospect of "Epiphany", and in the end, I think it'll work out. I hope. I kind of miss writing my Anya-centric stuff!


	3. The Godparents

**Chapter 2**

**The Godparents**

x-o-x

_And both that morning equally lay_

_In leaves no step had trodden black._

_Oh, I kept the first for another day!_

_Yet knowing how way leads on to way,_

_I doubted if I should ever come back._

- Robert Frost "The Road Not Taken"

x-o-x

There was the shrill sound of a whistle. Hope turned aggravated eyes over to her mother, who was staring forward at the darkness through the windshield. The whistle was coming from the figure sitting in front of her mother. Spike, she had called him. Hope's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the figure. He appeared to have some sort of personal relationship with her mother. Just the sight of him in grimy clothes and that leather duster was enough to make Hope distrust him.

Spike seemed to notice Hope's cool expression and turned in his seat, the piercing sound cutting off. Even though she was staring out the window, an expression of boredom on her face, she was starting to look more like Spike's grandsire every second. She had his dark hair, but her eyes were a bright, piercing green. Her facial features matched Angel's pretty damn well. That chin and nose definitely belonged to her mother. Even at sixteen, the girl was going to be a heartbreaker.

She seemed to have felt the chill of his stare and turned her head slightly to see him openly gawking at her. "What are you doing?" she asked irritably.

"Just taking a look at you, pet," Spike said evenly. "I haven't seen you since you were a little baby bit."

This seemed to pique her interest a little bit more. "You knew me when I was a baby?" she asked in an awed voice. "But Mummy said that we've been in Boston forever!"

"I liked Boston myself one time," Spike said, the old smirk returning to grace his pale face as he met Dawn's cool, penetrating gaze. "Yeah, I was there around the turn of the century when we—"

"Spike," Giles said in his patented patient tone, "we don't want to go around telling little Hope Summers tall tales now, do we?"

Spike's eyes took on a hue of disappointment. "Sorry about that," he said shortly, turning back in his seat.

Dawn slowly released a bit of pent-up oxygen. She was relieved that Spike hadn't blundered on about turning an entire city. Of course, he probably hadn't. Then again, knowing that Boston was where he had gone post-Boxer rebellion was a bit startling. Besides, Hope would just counter that he had seen her around the turn of the last century, when she'd only been a year old.

"So, where're we going?" Hope asked, crossing her arms, her face returning to her bored look.

"We're going to the house where I grew up," Dawn said quickly as Spike turned in his seat to answer. She saw how confused he looked when he turned back around and Dawn made a mental note to talk to him later. They rode on in silence until, at last, Giles pulled onto the familiar street. Dawn felt some of the apprehension and anxiety return. The house legally belonged to Willow now, who had bought it with Tara a few years back once Dawn had ultimately decided to put the house up for sale. Willow had been living there for nearly a decade by then and decided to keep it up.

Hope's face was reflecting in the glass as the sedan pulled into the driveway.

"You grew up here?" Hope asked in a hushed voice. Dawn smiled when she saw Hope turned towards her, grinning excitedly.

"Sure did," Dawn admitted as Giles stopped the ignition and opened the doors. Slowly the four got out of the car, looking up at the two-story house in front of them.

"It's pretty," Hope said in a voice of longing. "Grandpa, did you ever have a house like this?"

"Well, not really," Giles said as Hope slipped her arm through his and they headed towards the house, leaving Dawn stuck with the luggage.

"Some gentlemen," Dawn huffed, moving around to the trunk and pulled it open. Spike sauntered to stand next to her, watching as Dawn removed bag after bag.

"So, are you going to let me into this little web of lies?" Spike asked in a smug voice.

"I told you," Dawn huffed, practically throwing Spike backwards as she slammed Hope's suitcase into his chest, "it's better she doesn't know all of this. The next time you tell her about the good old days with Dru… I'll stake you myself."

"I can see you haven't changed," Spike said, his gaze turning serious as he watched Dawn take her own suitcase and slam down the lid of the trunk. "The baby bit looks like a ginger snap."

"She looks like Angel," Dawn said between clenched teeth.

"She's got Buffy's nose and a bit of her chin and maybe the tips of her ears, too," Spike said, teasing now. Dawn rolled her eyes as she stormed up the stairs and right through the front door.

In the doorway near the stairs, Willow was standing, her arms tightly set around the youngest Summers. Hope was clinging to her godmother with all of her strength, which was sort of amusing, considering Willow was dwarfed by Hope's rather tall, string-bean-like appearance. When Hope finally turned away, she found an older woman standing in the dining room smiling shyly at her. Hope had known Willow almost all of her life, luckily. She was the one person in Dawn's life that had refused to back out of it, despite death threats, police scandals and the occasional magical spell. Her reasoning was simple enough: she had been Buffy's best friend. She was also Hope's godmother. Even in her late thirties, Willow still retained much of her innocent youth and beauty. Her hair had become darker with age, but her eyes still held within them the same wisdom and strength that Dawn had counted on for so many years. She was still as thin as she always was, and there was a trace of power about her, too. Dawn could easily detect it, as she had once been a mystical object brought to life by the same body that had given life to the sixteen-year-old figure now throwing yet another tantrum.

_"What do you mean the mall burnt down?" _Hope was wailing as Spike grunted, closing the door at last, his keen eyes sharpening on the tall figure. Well, she certainly was acting like Angel at that moment with the whining and complaining. It had to have been partially Dawn's influence on her as well, but Hope was acting like a brat. It was something Spike had seen often enough with Connor.

"Will you relax?" Dawn asked, grimacing as she took Hope's arm and dragged her into the living room. The first thing she noticed is that the furniture had changed over the years. Instead of feeling warm and comfortable, it looked more like an exhibit in a museum of old artifacts. "It's not like you can fit anything else in your closets, anyway."

"But… shoes…" Hope whimpered, her lower lip trembling.

"We just got here," Dawn said, feeling a headache start to settle in. "Maybe it would be best if you went upstairs and actually settled down a bit. We can worry about shopping tomorrow."

"We'd better," Hope said, pulling her arm from Dawn's grasp and flouncing back into the entryway. Spike and Giles had already disappeared, probably relieved as hell that Dawn had dragged the rebellious teenager away. Willow was still standing on the bottom steps, however, talking to a pretty, curvaceous woman. As soon as Willow saw Hope return, she beckoned her over.

"Hope, sweetie, I'd like you to meet someone," she said, watching as the girl walked over. Tara shifted slightly under Hope's curious eyes, but she figured that Hope wouldn't remember her. "This is Tara."

"Oh, hi," Hope said, pushing the sleeve of her sweater up slightly as she shook Tara's hand.

Tara grimaced slightly under the strong grip. "That's a v-very st-strong grip you h-h-have," Tara stuttered uneasily as Hope relented, smirking slightly.

"Thanks," Hope said, glancing around. "Do you live here, too?"

"Yeah, she does," Willow said in a low, careful voice. She had no idea how Hope would take her relationship with Tara seriously. "She's… with me."

"Oh, cool," Hope said, her attention already gone as she strode past both women into the other room where Giles and Spike were talking in low, hushed tones. "I hope you're not hiding anything from me!" she said in a sing-song voice as she disappeared from sight.

Dawn felt slightly ashamed over Hope's actions, but it seemed to be something Willow had been expecting. "I'm sorry about—" she began, but found the words couldn't come.

"Don't worry about it," Willow said, waving her hand impatiently. "She'll discover the truth one way or another and then she'll be even more weird-ed out by it."

"Probably," Dawn said, wincing when she could just hear Hope's reaction. "She's just a very different child than the one you're probably expecting."

"Actually, she's p-pretty close," Tara surmised, turning around and watching Hope jump up and down next to Giles while Spike did his best to hide his snickers.

"They owe you," Willow said out of the corner of her mouth.

"I know," Tara said, wearing a surprisingly smug look.

"You owe her?" Dawn asked, confused.

"We had a bet," Tara admitted in a low voice.

"Anya got her ass kicked," Willow replied, pleased about this. Dawn rolled her eyes. "Then again, so did I. It's been only a few years since I've seen her, too." She chewed on her lower lip as Hope reappeared.

"Where's my room?" she asked cheerfully, looking between Dawn and Willow.

Willow immediately turned to look at Dawn and she understood what the look had meant. Hope would be staying in Buffy's room. There really was nowhere else for Hope to sleep unless Dawn switched rooms and the thought of spending the night in her dead sister's room was bad enough. It had been hard to leave her sister's memory behind. She didn't need a room that practically reeked of her to remind her of what she'd lost.

"I'll take you," Willow offered, taking Hope's suitcase from her and quickly regretting it. Hope's suitcase had to be filled with lumps of lead for how heavy it was. She finally managed to get the suitcase up the stairs as Hope hopped onto the landing easily behind her, singing under her breath. "How was your flight?"

"Fine," Hope said in a light, airy voice. "Mom slept the entire way. I read. And drank."

"Your mom wouldn't let you drink champagne now, right?" Willow asked in a low, threatening voice. Hope turned to her with those wide, innocent jade eyes.

"My mom freaks out if I so much look at a bottle," Hope said at last as Willow turned the knob on Buffy's old door and pushed it open. "In fact, I think that she would rather I… wow…"

Willow had just turned on the lights. Hope stepped inside the room as the strangest sensation came over her. "Whose room was this?"

Willow didn't answer her. She couldn't answer her. The only time either she or Tara went into this room was to dust and vacuum it. Otherwise, there was a bed and a few scattered books on the desk. The rest of the room was empty. Most of Buffy's possessions had gone to Angel's or with Dawn. Buffy had been buried with most of her prized possessions, including Mister Pointy and the silver cross she'd received from Angel. The pictures on the desk and the murals on the wall had been stripped before Hope had arrived, so instead of the room looking more like a shrine to her dead mother, it had a slightly detached feeling from reality. And yet, Willow thought sadly, this had been Buffy's life.

"Willow?" Hope asked in a quiet voice.

"It's a spare room," Willow said, finally finding her voice.

"Oh," Hope said. Willow glanced curiously at Hope, trying to figure out why the girl was acting so oddly. Did Hope sense something about this room like Willow or Dawn might? "Well, it's… nice." She walked over and took the handle of her suitcase, dragging it across the floor as she stood in the middle of the room. "It's really, really…"

"If you need anything, we'll be downstairs," Willow said quickly.

"Okay," Hope said, not moving.

"I forgot to tell you that Xander and Anya will be over tomorrow, so you can finally meet your other godparents," Willow said, trying to get some sort of reaction from Hope. The girl just blinked. She was still staring at the bed, as though lost in thought. "Hopie?"

"My mother hasn't called me that for awhile," she murmured, a soft smile spreading across her face. Willow reached out and touched the other girl's shoulder. "It's okay, Willow. I'm not going to jump out the window and run away or anything. You can trust me."

Willow's look changed from tender concern to a look of wry sarcasm as she dropped her hand. "I'm just letting you know that if you ever needed anything… we're always here for you, Hope. We owe your mother that much."

Hope listened as Willow left the room before her brow furrowed in confusion. So, Willow owed Dawn something. It was probably money. She'd begun to learn that a lot of people owed even more people a lot of things, including money. Money was the root of all evils, she thought with a sigh. Slowly, she bent down to lift her suitcase onto the bed. She might as well start unpacking as long as they were here until Sunday. Otherwise, things were bound to get boring really, really quickly.

x-o-x

The next morning was another bright, sunny morning. Dawn awoke early, shifting on her old bed and wrapping her arms around the comfort of her old, stuffed teddy bear. It was so comforting to be back in this room. She had been forced to grow up so fast when Buffy had died. Instead of going down to live with Angel and finally have a daddy-like figure in her life, she'd gone off to Boston, went to an expensive boarding school and spent the last fourteen years trying to figure out what the hell she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Wrapping herself in a thick, terrycloth robe, she crept past Buffy's old room. For a second, she thought that Buffy was still alive and that they had gone back sixteen years in time, before Glory, before Hope and before any of this gut-wrenching pain and agony had happened.

Of course, there had been no going back in time. Hope was curled in a ball. There was a stereo on the desk playing a bit of soft jazz music from a CD that had probably been on repeat all night. There was a large pink pig snug and secure in Hope's scrawny arms. For a moment, Dawn realized that she had gone back in time. Hope looked so much like Buffy, despite the fact that she was taller and a brunette, yet it was almost unnerving. Gently closing the door, she saw the door to Joyce's old room creep open as Tara came out, tying the sash on her robe.

Dawn quickly mouthed, "Downstairs," and the two made their way into the Kitchen. Spike and Giles had long since left. In fact, after Hope had gone to bed, Dawn had found herself in the first Scooby meeting in over fifteen years. It was sort of like old times, except they were much, much older. Giles was in his seventies now. He was definitely looked far more aged than he had back in the day.

Willow was already stirring blueberries into a thick batter when Dawn walked into the Kitchen.

"Mornin', Dawnie," Willow said with a tired smile. She handed Tara the bowl and reached for a carafe on the island's countertop. "Have some coffee… it'll wake you right up."

Dawn gratefully reached for a mug and poured herself a cup of the steaming liquid. "Thanks," she said, pushing the pot back. "I haven't slept this well in ages, but last night was… something else."

"I know," Willow said with a small, perceptive smile. "It's kind of weird being back in your old bed in your old house doing your old thing."

"You got that right," Dawn admitted, watching as Tara added the batter to the pan over the stove. As they waited for the pancakes to cook, she turned back to Willow. "So, when is Xander coming?"

"He's coming by later with the kids," Tara said, making a face. "Anya thinks that just b-because we're without our own brood, we h-have to take care of theirs."

"In that case, I think I adopted a few dozen," Dawn moaned, rubbing her eyes. "If Hope wasn't a full-time teen, imagine Hope with that Initiative guy's niece."

"Wait… what?" Willow asked after a moment of stunned silence.

"I kid you not," Dawn said, deadpanning. "Her name is Alexandra Finn. She's Riley Finn's niece."

"This… this is new," Tara said, hovering near the stove although she was desperate to know more. "D-Does she know about anything h-here?"

"Not that I can tell," Dawn said, shrugging. "She and Hope have been best friends since they could walk across the street without my supervision. If she knows anything, she's not letting on."

"It may not be something we have to worry about," Willow said in a comforting voice as she took her own coffee mug. "Until then, Buffy's favorite holiday ever is coming up tomorrow."

"Don't I know it," Dawn said with a wince, remembering the last two Thanksgiving Day dinners and Buffy's rather militant attitude about them. "Who's cooking?"

"Well, we are," Tara admitted. "Anya's idea of Thanksgiving is a lot of apple pie, followed by a lot of, well, you know."

Dawn rolled her eyes. Sometimes Anya was just too predictable.

"Xander would rather call for Chinese than worry about the hassle," Willow said, leaning closer to Dawn. "At least, when it's our turn, we'll have something that won't gain us ten pounds and taste like Mongolian beef for days afterwards. Besides, Tara makes some mean cranberries."

"You give me f-far too much credit," Tara said, pretending to blush. "Besides, ever since you started shelling out those peas, well… they've been the best I have ever had."

"You shell out your peas?" Dawn asked in disbelief.

"Not only that," Willow said proudly, "but we actually freeze our pumpkin parts for fresh pumpkin pie. Our yams are flown in from some Midwest state. Our corn is actually from a plant that doesn't use pesticides and our turkey is one hundred percent farm fresh."

"Wow," Dawn said, frowning. "I can't believe I haven't come home before this!"

"Trust me," said Tara, gently patting Dawn on the arm before turning back to collect her pancakes. "We've got the best dinner for miles around."

"There's no doubt about it," Willow said with a grin. "Buffy'd be proud of us."

"Of this, I have no doubt," Dawn said, waiting as Tara set down a steaming plate of pancakes before her. She almost started laughing when she saw that they were in the shapes of smiling faces. Some things never changed.

"I hope you don't m-mind," Tara said, turning back to put more pancakes onto the burner. "We don't have a daughter of our own to spoil… but if we had ever adopted one, it would have been you."

Dawn was touched. There was so much love between Tara and Willow, even now in the age where coming out of the closet was nearly a cliché. It was great being here again, part of a family. She'd missed out on growing up because she'd had to go from sixteen to twenty-one practically overnight. The thought of living with two women who adored her was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The pain and loneliness of the past fourteen years came rushing back to her in a heartbeat and she found herself unable to swallow as she stared at her plate, which had become a big blur.

Thank God for Hope, she thought to herself. Hope was the one who had kept her grounded for all these years, despite the fact that she was living in some fictional la-la land where the cheerleaders ruled and the jocks were the millionaires of some surreal future.

Of all the things to be thankful for, there was always Hope.

x-o-x

Hope didn't retreat from her room until after eleven. Wearing clothing that was far too big on her along with an attitude to match, she stumbled into the kitchen, dumped herself onto one of the stools, and reached for a pitcher of juice without so much as a greeting. Willow and Tara had just finished doing the breakfast dishes when Hope had arrived, and both women said "Good morning!" in their most cheerful tones. It took Hope nearly five minutes to respond.

"Sorry," she muttered, running a hand through her long, dark hair. "I didn't sleep so well last night."

"Was it the bed?" Tara asked, taking the pitcher and returning it to the fridge.

"It didn't feel very comfortable," Hope said, grimacing as she drank the warm orange juice. "This stuff sucks."

"Don't worry," Willow said, wiping her hands on a towel as she turned around again. "Xander and Anya called about a half hour ago; they're on their way. They'll be here in about twenty minutes if you want to clean up first."

"This isn't clean enough?" Hope asked, opening her arms. She was wearing a black sweatshirt that would probably be big on Spike or Angel. It could quite possibly fit over both of them. She wore under it a pair of fuzzy plaid pajama pants that had certainly seen better days, as they were slashed beneath the knee and one of the back pockets was hanging loose from her backside. Her feet were bare, which was almost amusing considering how warm it was outside and how warm her clothes looked. Both Willow and Tara looked as though they were dressed for summer.

"Where's Mom?" Hope asked, yawning as she followed them back to the stairs before jumping onto the bottom step.

"She went out for a little while, sweetie," Tara said quickly. "Did you find the bathroom all right?"

"Yeah," Hope said, giving her a quick thumbs-up. "I'll be good. See you in about twenty!" Without warning, she turned and dashed up the stairs, her heavy footsteps pounding until she reached her bedroom and disappeared inside of it.

Willow and Tara exchanged an uneasy look. They had lived well with the deception since Giles had first concocted it. The only problem was, Anya had a habit of being a little too realistic at times. She could easily spill the beans on the fact that Dawn wasn't Hope's mother and that Hope's father was still alive. Willow had given Xander this warning, saying it was what Buffy would have wanted. Anya seemed to relent. Perhaps their time living together had altered her frame of reality around Buffy, but for whatever it was worth, Willow had to give Buffy credit.

Twenty minutes later, a large black minivan pulled into the driveway. And then the chaos began.

Hope was still locked in the bathroom with the low hum of a blow dryer on the other side. When Tara had shouted that Xander was there, Hope just replied that she needed another five minutes.

"I don't suppose we can hide, can we?" Tara asked half-jokingly as she and Willow walked towards the door. They could hear the shrieks and screams of the four children came from outside and the two exchanged a long look and sighed.

"I'm tempted," Willow smirked.

The doorbell rang, followed by the sounds of fumbling footsteps and squeals. Then, the doorbell rang another five times before Xander was heard shouting, "Do you want to wake the whole world? For crying out loud, Lizzie, stop it!"

"But, Daddy!" the six-year-old whined from outside. "It makes noise!"

"You might as well leave her to it, as long as they won't answer," Anya said, her voice slightly muffled. From the crack in the heavy curtains, Willow could see that she was carrying the only Harris toddler, Alicia. Tony, Elizabeth's identical twin brother, was collecting the rather vast collection of cigarette butts while the eldest Harris child, Jordan, who was only eight, was kicking over the lawn gnomes and already hurling sticks and stones towards the cars driving by on the street.

The bell rang twice more before they heard a muffled shriek from the second floor.

"Uh oh," Tara whispered.

"We should probably answer the door, now," Willow said in a small voice. They were just walking towards the door when Hope appeared above them, holding a cigarette butt and looking livid.

"What stupid idiot threw this through the window when I was going my _hair?_" she demanded in a loud, brassy tone. Tara just gave her an apologetic half-smile as Willow pulled the door open. All at once, the chaos from outside seemed to come inside.

Anya burst through the door, looking nearly hysterical. "So you finally decided to open the door!" she said in a quick, breathy tone. "Liesha here weighs about a ton and you couldn't hold off your quickie until after curfew?"

Hope froze halfway down the steps, her wavy hair falling forward into her eyes. Anya was followed in by the twins, one who dumped an entire fistful of the smelly butts onto the entryway floor, followed by a mock-apologetic "Whoops". Lizzie, the boy's twin, came in third, scowling as her eldest brother was beating her over the head with a stick he'd found in the grass while calling her names in some language Hope didn't know. Bringing up the rear was Xander, his face hidden behind two huge boxes full of Thanksgiving goods.

"I hope you're holding the door open," came his muffled tone.

"Oh, honey," Anya cooed as she set Alicia down in the living room before returning to help Xander by taking the box on top.

The other three children stopped when they saw the teenager standing on the stairs above them, looking as though she desperately wanted to turn around and run upstairs. "You have got to be kidding me," she said, turning to throw Willow an accusing look. Tara shrugged helplessly as she eyed the three children.

"Who are you?" the oldest boy asked rudely.

"It's none of your business," Hope said with a sniff, crossing her arms.

"Hey, kid, we could use your help!" Anya said, struggling under the weight of the box.

When Hope didn't respond to her command, she set the box down on the table and returned to the entryway. "Didn't you hear me?'

"No, sorry, I've had my bitch tolerance for today, thanks," Hope said with a sweet smile.

"Hope!" Willow gasped from behind the door as she swung it closed.

"Err, yeah, hi," came Dawn's voice as she suddenly appeared from the opposite end of the house, looking warm and sticky from a morning jog. "Hello, Anya," she said loudly.

But Anya was too busy glaring at Hope, who was staring haughtily back at her.

"Uh, Hope, I don't know if you've been introduced, but this is your godmother, Anya."

"_She's my godmother?_" Hope asked, her eyes widening. "Oh, why couldn't I be an orphan?"

"Because I'm the better half of this rather odd assortment of a pairing," Xander said, easily stepping forward and gazing up at the dark-haired beauty who stood above them, still. "So, you're Hope, huh? You've grown up nicely."

"And that's your godfather, Xander," Dawn finished. "And these are their kids."

"Jordan, Tony, Elizabeth and Alicia," Anya said in a single breath, not taking her eyes off of Hope. She wasn't used to having her orders disobeyed and this was something Hope could sense instantly. "So, you're Hope, now, aren't you?"

Oh, crap. Xander looked from Anya to Hope and knew that Anya was sorely tempted to just spill out the whole truth right now. The only thing that stopped them was Willow coming forward.

"Uh, Hope… why don't you come and help us put this stuff away in the Kitchen. It's all for dinner tomorrow night."

"Okay," said Hope, smiling at Xander but turning her sharp, disdainful eyes towards her other godmother. Whoever thought of two godmothers in the first place? She liked Willow… Anya appeared to be a royal pain in the ass. Aside from her children who thought that playing with cigarette butts was cool, her baby was currently banging her rather large fists on the coffee table in the living room, wailing for attention. Anya seemed to break from her reverie first, going to care for Alicia.

"Welcome to our world," Tara said, grimacing as the three women walked into the kitchen.

This left Dawn and Xander standing in the entryway, surrounded by three kids. Tony had once again found the butts on the floor interesting and was working to collect them, all the while explaining to both Elizabeth and Jordan what cigarettes they were from. They had obviously been under the influence of Spike a little too much.

But they couldn't break the spell between Dawn and Xander, who stared at one another with tears shining in their eyes.

"You're all grown up," Xander said, his voice breaking slightly.

"You've got kids," Dawn said, gesturing at the three still crawling around the floor. "You've got big kids."

"I know," he said, with a rather tender smile. "They're great… sometimes. They're definitely Anya's kids."

Anya returned at that moment, Alicia attached to her hip. "Where did _she _go?" she asked archly.

"She's helping out Will and Tara in the kitchen, Ahn," Xander said, leaning over and taking Alicia, who smelt more like burnt cookies than anything else, from his wife's rather hard grip.

Anya visibly relaxed when she found out that Hope was out of earshot. She immediately turned to Dawn, who blanched under the pressure of Anya's rather authoritative glare. "You still haven't told her the truth yet? What kind of mother do you think you could possibly be? Who do you think you are, keeping the truth from her like that? I can't stand people who lie, but people who lie when they have a choice are all morons!"

"Mommy!" Elizabeth wailed. She absolutely hated it when her mother started ranting and raving.

"I would have thought you'd grown up more than that, Dawnie," Anya said, her voice relaxing slightly. "Apparently, you're still the same little kid that I'm so glad I haven't seen in fifteen years." She turned to Xander. "Let's go help them out."

Xander watched as Anya marched towards the kitchen before sighing. Anya's words had hit Dawn hard. "Don't worry about her, she's just under a lot of stress lately," Xander said with a tired smile.

"I don't need you to babble her excuses," Dawn said softly. "I know when I've done something wrong."

Xander shrugged. "They lived together for a year, you know? I think something happened between them, but Anya won't say what did. She was pissed as hell when she found out that you'd gotten custody of Hope. I think she wanted it."

"What, to teach her how to be a capitalistic dictator?" Dawn asked in disbelief. "Uh, no thanks. Hope may have her head in the clouds about shopping and material things, but she can't stand money."

"Oh, they'll get along really well," Xander said, rolling his eyes. It was then that he caught his three kids trying to sneak off with Spike's old cigarette butts. "Hey, you three," he shouted, following the three now running children into the living room. "Bring those back… those are disgusting! Don't you… don't you throw those at me! Jordan Lavelle Harris, you pick those up right now…"

As his voice continued to fade, Dawn found herself suddenly feeling very alone in the house she had once called home.

x-o-x

See? I didn't forget about this story! It's coming along rather nicely, after a few hundred hours of re-writes and re-plot-thinking-and-developments. The next chapter will cover a rather strained Thanksgiving. The story pans out at thirteen chapters right now, but it may lengthen, depending on how much more I want to write. I've started a bunch of drabbles, too, that basically cover the first year-and-a-half of Hope's life when she was actually with her living parents. They also explain Anya's attachments to Hope, as well.

I'll add a few reviewer's comments at the end, here, since you have all been so nice and patient after three months of complete silence! I promise I'll update before June!

**Juzblue**** – **Yeah, Spike will be sticking around for awhile. I kind of like the way I wrote him out in this story. He sort of becomes the one who isn't all afraid and on pins-and-needles around our dear Hope. And the stress between him and Angel is just delicious. Riley really isn't going to be in this story, much… but he will be towards the end.

**Buff – **Sorry about taking, you know, three months and all… I hope this chapter made up for it!

**Panther28 – **She won't learn the truth for awhile yet. And she learns it from an unsuspecting source. It'd be nice to hear some guesses, because I think the person who eventually tells her the truth is an actual surprise. Alex, as far as they know, doesn't know anything. It doesn't mean she doesn't, though…

**Kara Weasley – **Why, thank you! I think that a part of Buffy is in this story, as Hope will continue to start acting more and more like her mother than her father. And I've come to the point where I'm about burnt out on Harry Potter, unfortunately. And I still have a story I'm desperately trying to finish… odd that.

**Electric Pancake – **You don't know how much I want to sometimes!

**Minty**** – **Well, I'll tell you that it's Cordelia. And she's changed… a lot. As for who slips up with Hope, my lips are sealed.

**Dreading-Infinity – **See, I tried to go for something a bit different and something that at least had an impact on my life. Suddenly this little plot bunny was born. I am going to finish this story, even if it takes a year, which I hope it won't.

**Blackrosemystic**** – **My stories are actually wonderful? There are times when I cringe when I look back at them… but… thank you so much for your comments. They make me feel like a good writer!

**Vampyr**** Moon – **You're telling me! Things have only begun to get interesting as far as Xander and Anya are concerned. At least Willow and Tara already knew about Hope. Just wait until Anya gets her two cents in!

_Yes, this is the secondary version. Corrected the name bits (unless you wanted baby Harris to be known as Hannah/Liesha)… yeesh. Also, there were a few tiny spelling errors that I couldn't live with._


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